The Adventures of Cutter and Reyd
by The d20 Master
Summary: In the 41st millennium, the Imperial Guard fights on a thousand battlefields with ten thousand regiments, with each regiment being as insignificant as the bolter rounds a space marine fires. This is the story of Sergeant Major Charles Cutter and Commissar Victor Reyd, two men even more insignificant than that.


Colonel George Avery of the 98th Praetorian Guard Line Infantry regiment cursed as bullets whizzed overhead, one grazing his pith helmet. Around him, his command squad was completely annihilated as were most of the infantry he had landed with, a handful of guardsmen hiding behind cover with no commissars left alive to stop them. As he himself was currently in the process of cowering, he felt it would not be right to chastise his men for doing the same.

The sound of engines screaming overhead heralded the arrival of reinforcements and as the Valkyrie transports touched down and deposited scores of Guardsmen, George drew his power sword and rose to his feet.

"Tally ho, lads! Charge, for the Emperor!" He yelled, turning and leaping over cover. As he bellowed a battlecry and his men charged forth, he was suddenly silenced by several bullets tearing into his chest. He crashed to the ground in an inglorious fashion and twitched as the vital red fluid seeped from his chest.

"Oh, bollocks... Should have... Worn... Carapace..." Were George's final words.

* * *

Sergeant Major Charles Cutter sprinted across the battlefield at top speed, lasgun propped against his shoulder as he fired into the greenskins ahead. He leaped over a mound of bodies and on the other side were the last remnants of his platoon, three Guardsmen cowering behind the corpses of human and ork alike.

"Alright, lads, just confirmed that there are in fact a fucking huge amount of Orks approaching this position. Where's the fucking colonel, anyway?" Cutter asked. One of the three guardsmen, a young man by the name of William, reluctantly spoke.

"I saw him get shot not long after we arrived, Cutter." William said.

"Oh, well that explains a lot. Refresh my memory, Billy, who's the next in the chain of command?" He said.

"That'd be Senior Captain Johnathan Wright. The one who wants you dead, I believe." William replied. Cutter frowned.

"What about Major Thomas?" Cutter said.

"Got his head chopped off." William said. Cutter sighed, nodded and reached for his hip flask, unscrewing it and drinking deeply. When he could drink no more to breathe, he wiped his mouth and screwed up the flask, replacing it at his belt.

"Well, carry on." He said.

"Carry on what, sir?" William asked. Cutter rolled his eyes.

"Carry on cowering behind these corpses, obviously. Don't charge the line, it's just a row of fucking guns. Whose bright idea was it to land without any of our artillery?" Cutter asked.

"That would be Captain Wright, if I do recall. The colonel couldn't think of a better plan." William said.

"Right on, Billy. Do me a favour, if Captain Wright survives this battle, shoot me." Cutter instructed.

"Right on, sir."

"Actually, belay that. Shoot Captain Wright instead." Cutter amended his statement, checking his lasgun and then firing a few shots blindly over the mound of corpses.

"I think I might get in trouble if I did that, sir. Look, reinforcements." William said, pointing up at the sky. Sure enough, more valkyries were descending from the heavens.

"Well, we're probably going to have to charge the line soon enough. Care for some brandy before we die?" Cutter offered, holding up his hip flask. None of the three partook and he shrugged, drinking before replacing it.

"Volley fire at three hundred yards, present! Aim! Fire!" Came a yell from outside Cutter's field of view.

"That would be Captain Wright." Cutter said, sighing. "Alright lads, fix bayonets. Not because they'd be... Useful... It looks flashy." He said. They fixed bayonets and after a moment, the four screamed and charged over the mound of corpses, firing their lasguns at the row of greenskins ahead. But before gunfire could dispatch them, Vulture gunships soared overhead and launched their missiles, blowing apart the enemy position. A collective cheer rose up from the ranks of the regiment and Cutter decided to join them as they swept into the trench the Orks had been in to clear out the surviving greenskins. After about ten minutes, the position was well and truly under Imperial control.

"So, what now, Sergeant Major?" William said. Cutter sighed.

"Let's go report to the new colonel. Tuck that shirt in, Billy, Captain Wright will probably shoot you if you don't look spotless after a battle." Cutter instructed.

"Right you are, sir." William said, doing as instructed as the four guardsmen walked for the command tent that was being set up. When they reached it, Cutter hesitated and then entered as the other three waited outside.

"By the Emperor, you're still _alive_ , Cutter?" Were the first words Cutter heard. He sighed, rolling his eyes as he removed his pith helmet and rubbed his bald scalp.

"So I've heard, Captain." He said.

"That's _colonel_ , Sergeant Major." Wright informed him. Cutter examined the seated captain with disdain, looking at the bushy brown handlebar mustache, the long scruffy brown hair poking out from under his pith helmet, the pale skin and dark green eyes above a smashed nose.

"If we're going by what people are supposed to be called, would I not be a lieutenant?" Cutter asked, scratching the stubble growing around his square jaw.

"No. Commanding a platoon does not entitle you to that rank, you're an _enlisted_ soldier, by the throne." Wright responded sternly.

"And are you still going to merge my platoon of now... Four men, with some other platoon that lost their commander if I'm not a lieutenant?" Cutter inquired.

"Of course, the men would riot if I just gave you a squad." Wright said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Your damned popularity is why I haven't already had you shot."

"Nice to know, mate. And since I'm a de facto lieutenant but an official sergeant major, I'm just going to keep calling you Captain." Cutter responded. Wright's face flashed with anger.

"Keep up that attitude and you'll be a rotting corpse, Sergeant Major." Wright warned, reaching for his pistol.

"Hold on a second, Colonel." Came a feminine voice, causing Cutter to nearly jump out of his skin. He whipped around to see a woman in the uniform of the regiment, her Pith helmet under her arm. Her face was smooth a heart-shaped, a strand of her long red hair hanging next to her right eye as the rest was tied back tightly in a ponytail. Though neither flak armour nor the regimental uniform were exactly form-fitting, Cutter could see that she had quite a shapely figure and he attempted to discreetly cover his crotch with his helmet. He cleared his throat, looking around nervously.

"Uh, hello, um..." He muttered. He turned around, frowning. "Who is this?" He asked.

"You seriously don't know?" Wright asked, chuckling. "Take a guess." He said as he sat back down. Cutter hesitated, then looked back at the woman. She did not seem impressed.

"My first guess is prostitute." Cutter said. This earned him a slap in the face and he stepped back, rubbing his red cheek. "Yeah, didn't think so. Never met a ginger hooker, or one that had all her teeth." At this, she raised her hand again and he raised his left hand in a gesture of peace while keeping his right hand firmly attached to his helmet.

"She's the new Major of the regiment, Sergeant Major. Surely you might have seen her in my command squad?" Wright asked.

"Yeah, no. I thought this was an all-male regiment?" Cutter asked. The woman rolled her sparkling blue eyes and walked over to Wright, grabbing the steaming teapot on his table and pouring herself a cup.

"It's technically a unisex regiment, but due to sheer chance, the vast majority of soldiers assigned to it are men." Wright said. "Major Claudia, why are you asking me to hold on with disciplining a subordinate?" He asked.

"I have a better idea for putting him in his place than simply shooting him." Claudia responded, drinking deeply from her cup of tea. "If he's being given a new platoon, we'll give him a commissar. I've heard he's never had one assigned to him before?" She said.

"No, I've had a couple, love. Those disappearances had nothing to do with me or my men, just saying." Cutter said.

"You will refer to the Major by her title, Sergeant Major." Wright said.

"Indeed. Call me love a second time and I will shoot you in that erection that you think I haven't noticed." Claudia said.

"Well, damn." Cutter remarked as he ceased his efforts to hide his crotch.

"I don't see how a commissar would change anything, he's notorious for managing to evade their watchful gaze." Wright said.

"Not just any commissar, Colonel. I'm thinking of Reyd." Claudia said. Wright grinned.

"Oh, you're absolutely correct, that would put him in his place." He said.

"Hey, so uh, still here and all... Who the fuck is Reyd?" Cutter asked.

"Commissar Victor Reyd, from Mordia. He has a history of being more... Zealous in maintaining discipline than some commissars. I'd offer to show you his file but I really don't like you, Sergeant Major. Go and rest up, you'll meet your new commissar tomorrow." Claudia said.

"Yeah, sure. If you change your mind on that opinion of me, swing by my tent and..." Cutter said, trailing off and winking. She stared blankly at him, then drew her pistol and shot him in the foot.

"Oh, MOTHERFUCKER!" Cutter roared as he hopped and clutched his wounded foot, smoke rising up from the cauterized wound.

"Jog on." She said. When he did not move, she pointed her pistol at his other foot. "Hop to it." She added, smirking. He scowled and hobbled from the tent.

"Hullo, sir." William said. Something wrong with your foot?"

"Obviously, you fucking moron, that bitch just shot me!" Cutter yelled.

"Which bitch? Oh, Major Claudia! She's hot." William said. Cutter's eye twitched.

"A whole new meaning to the phrase 'Fiery Redhead'. Help me to our fucking tent." Cutter said.

* * *

Cutter yawned as he opened his eyes, stretching and sitting up. He looked around the dark tent and sighed. After sitting in silence for a moment, he rose to his feet and began dressing himself. He was just fastening his saber to his belt when William entered.

"Sir, the new platoon is here and ready for your order!" William said.

"Alright then. Carry on, Billy, just need to have my morning cuppa." Cutter said, striding over to the kettle he kept and turning it on.

"The er... The new Commissar is also there, sir. He demands your presence immediately." William said. Cutter sighed angrily.

"You might have mentioned that first, eh? Bugger off, then." He said. William nodded and ducked out as Cutter grabbed his Pith helmet, put it on and fastened the chin straps. He put his laspistol in its holster and exited the tent.

Outside, forty-four Guardsmen were standing at attention, William included. In addition, a tall, slim man clad in the greatcoat of a Commissar and with the hat to match stood, his arms folded behind his back. His electric blue eyes examined Cutter with curiousity, his skin was a tanned shade and his nose was small and seemingly perfect, his cheekbones were high and his jaw was quite firm. Underneath his hat, Cutter could make out his close-cropped brown hair as well as a set of abnormally large ears.

"Good morning, Sergeant Major. Oversleeping, I see." The man said, shaking his head in disapproval.

"Yeah, it's one of my things I do when I get shot." Cutter responded. "And when I survive a battle, too. Yesterday involved both of those things. You'd be Victor Reyd, then?"

"Commissar Reyd to you, Sergeant Major. No need to introduce yourself, I'm well aware of who you are. You've quite a reputation among the troops." He said.

"Yeah, that I do. Speaking of the troops, I need to inspect the new ones, so if you'd shut up and let me do that it'd be much appreciated, thanks, Ears." Cutter said. Victor's face turned a deep shade of red.

"What did you just call me?" He hissed.

"Ears, mate. Clearly size doesn't mean they're any better at hearing, so shut your piehole." Cutter responded. Victor scowled, revealing a neat row of stark white teeth. Cutter had an urge to punch them but decided against it and looked to his men. They seemed to be in order but one of the Guardsmen was in fact a relatively short, blonde woman. He frowned and examined the slim woman. She met his gaze unblinking.

"Hullo, love. What's your name?" He asked.

"Sergeant Jane Carpenter, sir." She responded.

"Good to know. I'll remember you." Cutter said, looking at the rest of the troops. As he did, William approached, grinning.

"What is it, Billy?" Cutter inquired.

"Just found out I'm to be in your command squad, sir." William said.

"Oh, perfect. What's your job, vox operator? Standard bearer, field medic? I can't see you in any of those, you don't know the difference between the off switch and the self destruct button on a vox caster, you'd probably vomit on the platoon standard and you don't have any medical training whatsoever." Cutter said. William frowned, scratching his dirty face.

"I believe the role described was 'Stand in front and absorb gunfire', sir." William said.

"Oh, that's lovely. Alright, who else is in my command squad?" Cutter asked. Three more guardsmen stepped forward. One wore a hat rather than a Pith helmet and carried a laspistol, the left pauldron of another had a red cross on it and the third carried a vox caster.

"Standard bearer, field medic, vox operator. Honestly don't know how I didn't see that before. Alright, lads. You should at least know that if you die, it'll probably be after Billy here." Cutter said. "What are your names?"

"Corporal John Henderson, sir!" The one with the hat and pistol cried. "Standard Bearer for your platoon!"

"Private Steven Henderson, no relation to him." The medic said.

"Private Jackson Henderson, sir. Also no relation to these two." The vox operator said.

"Three Hendersons in one squad, what a coincidence. Alright then, everything seems in order. Private Henders-" Cutter began, before trailing off and cursing. "Private Jackson, get in contact with Captain Wright, ask him for our orders" He instructed.

"Would that be Colonel Wright, sir?" Jackson asked.

"Sure, that's the one. Ask for our orders." Cutter said.

"Yes sir, very good sir." Jackson responded.

"Very unprofessional, Sergeant Major. You haven't even bothered to learn the names of all the sergeants under your command." Victor commented dryly.

"Yeah, that's because their life expectancy is measured in minutes once we're on the battlefield, mate. Honestly, I'd have thought you'd be familiar with that concept since your kind is half responsible for that fact." Cutter said. "With the exception of my squad and that blonde bombshell over there, I'll worry about learning names if they actually survive a battle."

"You do realize that sleeping with your subordinates and superiors is an offense, yes?" Victor said.

"I don't think that's true." Cutter said, frowning.

"That blonde bombshell of yours had best hope she doesn't live through the next battle or else she'll probably be shot along with you. And you'd know this if you had read your copy of the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer." Victor said.

"You what, mate?" Cutter said nervously.

"Your copy of the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer. You did read it, yes?" Victor said.

"I... I skimmed it." He said. Victor frowned.

"May I see your copy, Sergeant Major?" He requested.

"Well, you see, the thing is... I may have..." Cutter trailed off and Victor stepped forward.

"You may have _what,_ Sergeant Major?" Victor said sternly.

"I used it for toilet paper." Cutter sighed.

"You did _WHAT?_ " Victor snapped.

"Didn't have any, needed a shit, the damn thing was useless anyway and trust me, any Guardsman who's ever lived through a battle has used their copy of the Imperial Infantryman's Uplifting Primer as toilet paper." Cutter said.

"Yeah, he's not wrong on that. I also used it as a tissue." William said.

"Oh, fucking hell, the same _page_ , Billy?" Cutter said in disgust.

"No!" William said. Then he frowned. "Wait, no, I did. In that order."

"By the Emperor, that's disgusting, man." Victor said, scowling.

"Yeah, you get used to that with this idiot." Cutter said, massaging his temples with thumb and forefinger. "Billy, go take a bloody bath. You smell like half a rotting corpse."

"I honestly don't know how, sir. Could you teach me?" William said. Cutter paused, breathing deeply.

"Never mind, belay that order." He said.

"By all that is good and holy, this man is stupid." Victor said. "His stupidity is detrimental to the war effort."

"You're telling me, I've been his CO for two months." Cutter replied. Victor drew his laspistol.

"Shall I shoot him, Sergeant Major? Do us both a favour?" He inquired.

"Nah, he can still absorb gunfire." Cutter said. William smiled, revealing his yellow, crooked teeth, of which some were missing.

"Thank you kindly, sir. It's an honour to be your bullet soak." William said.

"You do understand what that job entails, right?" Cutter asked.

"Well, I imagine I'll find out, sir." William said, smiling sweetly. Cutter stood in silence for a moment.

"You know, I almost feel bad." He said.

"Almost. I'll put that down as dereliction of duty." Victor commented.

"I'll put not shooting you down as dereliction of duty..." Cutter muttered.

"What was that, Sergeant Major?" Victor said, scowling.

"I said, you'd better not shoot my men for dereliction of duty, Commissar Reyd." Cutter said, grinning. Victor scowled and stalked off. Jackson looked at him.

"Sir, orders have come through. We're to be at the spearhead of the assault on the nearby greenskin stronghold." Jackson said. Cutter sighed.

"Typical, really. I hope you all got laid last night, because I expect most of you are going to be dead this time tomorrow. In marching formation, jump to." Cutter commanded. The Guardsmen did as he ordered, getting in marching formation. When they were ready, they set off.

* * *

Cutter's platoon crouched around a large rock formation as William lay prone atop it, examining the fortress ahead. So far, he had said nothing.

"Well?" Cutter said impatiently. "What do you see? How heavily fortified is it?"

"Yeah, uh... It's definitely got, uh..." William trailed off. He paused and looked back to the platoon. "It's well tough, lads."

"Fucking brilliant." Cutter growled, climbing atop the rocks and pushing William aside, who fell ungraciously off and landed hard in the dirt. He examined the fortress. A large, sprawling shanty town ahead, with a makeshift iron and wood wall with half a dozen ramshackle guard towers along it, gun emplacements jutting out of each tower. Two of these towers were on the wall facing Cutter's platoon, that wall being the longest by far. By Cutter's count, there were twelve gun emplacement, each one manned with what looked to be big shootas. In the middle of the wall was a large wooden gate that was shut and locked up with metal chains. When he was satisfied, he climbed down and relayed this information to the squad.

"That sounds impregnable for a force our size." Victor commented.

"Oh, a Commissar who thinks that there is such a thing as not enough men? That's new." Cutter said snidely. Victor scowled.

"Curb that attitude, Sergeant Major, or I shall shoot you." Victor warned.

"Given the fact that there's probably two hundred Orks in that place, you'll have to get in line. There's reinforcements waiting to join us, right?" Cutter said. Jackson nodded.

"Our entire company plus a squadron of basilisks. They'll join in on Captain Hendrick's word, he'll come help once we have that wall secured to relieve us." He said.

"Brilliant. Alright, lads, since our job is just to take that wall... Well, there's plenty of cover in between here and there. We'll formulate a proper strategy based around our numbers when we reach the wall. Sergeant Carpenter, your squad is in back, my command squad right ahead and the rest of you fanning out in front of us." Cutter instructed. Jane frowned.

"But sir, we're a special weapons team, we have melta guns." She said. "Surely we should be up close since our guns have short range?"

"Well, those guns are good against tanks, we'll keep you in the back line as a reserve force in case there's armour. Wouldn't want to lose you before that, eh?" Cutter said.

"This order wouldn't happen to be because you find the Sergeant attractive, would it?" Victor asked innocently.

"Half and half, mate." Cutter responded, cocking his lasgun. "Alright, lads... Three, two, one, OVER THE TOP!" He yelled. The Guardsmen ran out from either side of the rock formation, charging the wall and screaming their battlecries. Cutter sprinted for a large mound of dirt ahead, his command squad following suit as the Guardsmen squads fanned out. To Cutter's ire, Victor was accompanying his own squad.

"For the Emperor!" Corporal John yelled, waving the standard of the platoon back and forth as they charged. The sounds of gunfire split the air as ahead, the gun emplacements opened up. Cutter heard screams but paid them no heed, focused on making it to the first bit of cover. After what seemed an eternity, his squad made it to the mound and dived to the ground, hiding outside the line of sight of the Orks. Cutter looked around and saw that the entire command squad was still alive as well as the majority of the Guardsmen, casualties being fairly light so far. Cutter raised his lasgun into the air and fired a snapshot before lowering it and taking a deep breath.

"Once more, charge!" Cutter yelled. He and his command squad crested the mound and charged. The land ahead was mostly open grass but Cutter sighted a tree about two hundred meters off and made a beeline for it. Next to him, John screamed in pain and his body contorted at an odd angle as blood sprayed from his chest. Cutter and the squad had no time for him and they kept moving, leaving the Standard Bearer to die as they ran. Jackson grunted and gurgled, blood spurting from his throat as he sank to his knees. Cutter cursed. Finally, they reached the tree and huddle around its huge base, breathing deeply. Cutter looked at his men and saw that the casualties had climbed, with fifteen of them lying dead in the field including the two Hendersons. Fortunately, they were now halfway to the wall but he had no doubt that as they came closer, the accuracy of the Ork guns would increase.

"You ready, Billy?" Cutter asked. William shook his head, panting.

"No, sir, it's me ankle, I think I twisted it. You're gonna have to leave me." He said.

"I beg your pardon?" Victor said, scowling and aiming his laspistol at William.

"Sir, I think I'm having a second wind." William said nervously. Cutter looked away uncomfortably.

"Very good. Alright, CHARGE!" He said. Once again, the Guardsmen ran. Screams permeated the air constantly, accompanying the roar of gunfire. Cutter saw many fall in his peripheral vision but forced them out his his mind, focusing instead on the long strip of land between him and that wall, sprinting as fast as his legs would carry him. Finally, he slammed into the wall, grunting in pain as he stopped and breathed heavily. He looked around and did a quick headcount. Twelve other men, Victor, William, Steven, Jane included in that number. Not ideal, but it would have to do.

"Oh, fuck." Cutter muttered, realizing that with Jackson being dead, they would not be able to contact Captain Hendrick. Deciding he would cross that bridge when he got to it, he looked around.

"Sergeant Carpenter, you think your melta guns can destroy that tower?" Cutter called.

"Probably, yeah." She replied, hefting her own meltagun. "Come on, boys!" She yelled. Two other Guardsmen wielding meltaguns nodded and the three carefully walked to the base of the tower, clinging to the wall so as to remain outside the line of sight of the greenskins. When they were where they needed to be, they opened fire, unleashing a torrent of melta fire constantly, reducing the base of the tower to slag. They scrambled back to the rest of the platoon as the tower came crashing down, the sounds of the Orks within screaming giving Cutter a feeling of satisfaction. A minute later, they did the same to the other tower and then she shot out the door, the Guardsmen kicking through the slag and opening fire into the town. The melta guns managed to keep any approaching greenskins at bay and Cutter looked at Steven.

"Listen, Steve, I need you to run back out into the field fast as you can, find Jackson's corpse and bring me his vox caster, understood?" Cutter said, firing blindly. Steven fired a laser through the head of an approaching Ork boy and nodded, turning and sprinting as fast as possible. Cutter sighed and looked back at the Orks, firing into the town in a line with the other men. By this stage, few Orks were brave enough to poke their heads outside of any buildings and most of those that did were shot in short order. However, a handful braved the twelve humans, charging out and firing before they were mowed down. However, they were effective, with each charge reducing the platoon by a man. Soon, Steven returned but by this stage only six Guardsmen remained and though the attacks had stopped, Cutter could see the tiny Ork slaves they called grots scuttling through the back streets, no doubt gathering a larger force.

"Take my place in the line, Steven!" Cutter yelled, stepping back and taking the vox caster. He activated it. "Captain Hendrick, this is Cutter! We've taken the wall, reinforce us right fucking now!" He yelled into the vox.

"Right you are, Cutter. Basilisks beginning their bombardment now, the company is en route. Good job on taking out the gun towers." Hendrick replied. The vox crackled and Cutter scowled.

"Pull back, we've done enough! The rest of the company is on the way!" Cutter yelled. Victor turned and pointed his pistol at Cutter, bloody murder in his eyes.

"Not one step back, Sergeant Major. Not one." He warned. Cutter scowled and rejoined the line, firing into buildings. As another Guardsman was gunned down, the roar of artillery filled the air. Cutter looked back and saw hundreds more Guardsmen cresting the rise and charging for the town. Cutter breathed a sigh of relief as he reloaded. The battle went rather well after that, the rest of the company sweeping into the town and killing every last Ork within it. No more of Cutter's platoon died, with Cutter, William, Victor, Jane and Steven being the sole survivors of the assault. After the town was taken, the rest of the regiment moved in and Cutter decided to report to the colonel to request reinforcement for his once more reduced platoon.

* * *

"By the Emperor, Cutter, you're still _alive?"_ Colonel Wright said, looking up from his cup of tea as Cutter entered his freshly erected command tent. Cutter sighed, feeling an odd sense of deja vu.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hey all, thanks for reading the first chapter for my new story! Unlike my other stories, this one is not going to have a regular uploading schedule, I'm afraid. I'll write chapters when I feel like it and when I have time and upload when they're done, rather than making time for my other stories and uploading every two weeks. So yeah, see you guys when the next chapter is done.  
**


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